


Comfort Food

by Kitaa



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Getting Together, Idiots in Love, M/M, Swearing, Unrepentant Fluff, absolutely terrible flirting, festival date, food as a love language, miya twin bickering, more like "festival" date, very brief sexual reference
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-23
Updated: 2020-11-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 07:06:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27689357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kitaa/pseuds/Kitaa
Summary: Osamu makes food for Sakusa, and decides he wants to get to know him better.  He plans a date at a local festival, which doesn't go anything at all like he expects.  Maybe that's okay.
Relationships: Miya Osamu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Comments: 4
Kudos: 45





	Comfort Food

**Author's Note:**

> I don't actually know anything about Japanese hand sanitizers, I'm sorry Sakusa.

Osamu loved working at night.

Even though it was well past business hours, and he wasn't making any money, he didn't mind. Being able to provide a moment of respite for people he cared about was _way_ better than selling food to strangers. Some nights he'd have fellow graduates from Inarizaki in the shop, or friends he'd made in business school. Tonight, he had the Jackals.

The little restaurant was full of life. Everyone looked content; everyone, that is, except a hunched figure in the far corner. Osamu tried to remember: had Sakusa taken any food? He'd seen him with a glass of water, but that was all.

That was no good. It was a point of pride to Osamu that everyone who entered Onigiri Miya left full and happy.

So he plated up a pile of food, and took it over to Sakusa. "Hey. Ain't ya hungry? Got a bunch of different stuff, bound to be somethin' ya like."

Sakusa looked down at the plate like it held live roaches. "I don't want it."

"Why not?"

Sakusa turned the withering glare onto him directly. "It could have any manner of germs all over it."

Osamu had spent a lifetime styling himself as the calmer, more mature Miya, but some things were too much, even for him. "Ya think I'd be runnin' a business like this if I wasn't gonna keep everythin' spotless?" he shot back. "Ya think I wanna make people _sick_?"

"It doesn't matter that the kitchen's clean," Sakusa huffed. "I don't eat food that's been _touched_."

Atsumu had mentioned that, at one point, hadn't he? That Sakusa didn't take food from fans, because he didn't know where it had been. Still, this was different, wasn't it? That was a _stranger_. Osamu might not know Sakusa much, except as his brother's teammate, but didn't that confer _some_ kind of trust?

From the corner of his eye, Osamu saw Atsumu wipe his mouth with his hand, then touch multiple onigiri before choosing one.

Right. Maybe if he'd been someone else's brother, it would.

He looked back to Sakusa. "So if I wore gloves while I made ya somethin', that'd be okay?"

Sakusa's stomach growled -- Osamu had to try very hard not to laugh at the timing -- and his gaze shifted sideways. "Yes. But you have to wash _everything_ before you use it. I'm going to watch. If you slack off, I'm out."

"Sure thing. I'm _gonna_ get some food in ya, one way or another."

"Why are you so determined?" Sakusa asked, eyes narrowed.

"Because it's _really_ rude of ya to starve yerself right in front of me."

"Is it?"

"Yup. Why do ya think I'm in this business, anyway?"

"I have no idea."

"I _like_ feedin' people. People're happy when they eat good food. I like makin' people happy."

"Can't relate."

Osamu _did_ laugh at that. "That's fine. Just remember that if yer hungry and I'm around, it's gonna make me _way_ more mad to know ya went hungry than it _ever_ would for me to make ya somethin', no matter what kinda hoops I gotta jump through first."

Sakusa scrunched up his nose. "All right."

"Heh. Not used to someone tryin' to take care of ya, are ya?"

Sakusa's gaze went sideways again, his cheeks turning pink. "No."

Osamu stopped dead in the middle of wiping down the countertop.

Sakusa _blush_ _ed_ at that? Sakusa _Kiyoomi_? The man who had perfected the thousand-yard, dispassionate stare? _Blushed_?

"Ya should try it sometime. Ya might like it."

That made Sakusa's cheeks go even darker. "I'll keep that in mind."

Some nights, making food for his friends and their friends was even more enjoyable than usual. This was definitely one of those nights.

* * *

From that night on, whenever the Jackals descended onto the restaurant, Osamu knew he'd be making Sakusa's food separately. He knew that Sakusa would demand to watch the entire process, from wiping down already clean counters all the way through the finishing touches. He didn't mind at all. It meant that he got a chance to talk to the otherwise elusive Sakusa, and despite all of Atsumu's warnings ("Pretty sure he just hates people, y'know? Like he hates _bugs_."), he enjoyed doing so.

Osamu would poke at him, see if he could instigate another blush, or even better, a smile and a laugh. If Sakusa was in a good mood, he'd play along. If he wasn't, he'd just stare at Osamu blankly. Even _that_ wasn't so bad. Sakusa had awfully nice eyes.

Tonight, he was in a good mood.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd think ya just liked watchin' me work," Osamu teased.

"I'm just making sure that you're being sanitary."

"Still don't trust me not to roll it around on the floor, huh?"

Sakusa's brows knit. "It's not that."

"Maybe stick it in my pocket for a few minutes before I give it to ya? Or lick it?"

"Why would you _do_ that?"

"Dunno," Osamu laughed. "Just wanted to see what ya'd say."

"Disgusting," Sakusa sighed, but there wasn't any vitriol in it.

Osamu grinned back at him. "Does that mean ya don't want anythin' tonight?"

"I didn't say _that_. I'm hungry."

"Good. Ya just sit right there and let me feed ya."

The frown was back. "That makes it sound like-- nevermind."

"Like I'm gonna stick my hand in yer mouth?"

"Yes. Like that."

"I mean, I still got my gloves on. Wouldn't be the end of the world."

Sakusa scrunched up his nose. "If that's your idea of customer service, I think you should probably close down."

"Ya don't think people'd pay extra to be hand fed by a handsome chef?"

Success! Sakusa's face turned red. "I wouldn't know."

"Yer worried I'm actually gonna try it, ain't ya?"

"A little."

"No faith in me, Kiyoomi. I'm hurt. Wounded. Dyin'."

"Can you finish my food before you die?"

"Sure thing." Osamu smiled warmly at him before returning to his task.

He'd always had a thing for the quiet, stoic type. (Suna had once suggested that was Atsumu's fault; that Osamu was attracted to people who were exactly the opposite of his brother. That thought--to Suna's utter delight--haunted Osamu to this _day_ , but it didn't change anything. He had a type, and Sakusa was it.) Plus, his stupid attempts at flirting actually made Sakusa _smile_ sometimes. Osamu started to think that he might actually have a chance.

* * *

The next night the Jackals came, Sakusa wasn't with them. Osamu couldn't help but wonder if it was his fault. Maybe his flirting had made Sakusa uncomfortable after all. Or maybe he'd slipped up while cooking.

Osamu elbowed Atsumu as he slipped behind the counter to get a glass of water. "Hey, Tsumu. Where's Kiyoomi?"

Atsumu shrugged. "He's got a photo shoot before practice tomorrow mornin'. Wanted to get his beauty sleep, I guess."

"Oh."

"Why? Ya _miss_ him?"

"Didn't say that." Osamu was certain he hadn't given anything away in his expression or his tone, but Atsumu could tell anyway. Stupid twin intuition.

"Didn't have to," Atsumu answered. "Ya _like_ him, don't ya?"

"Shuddup." He _did_ , but that didn't mean he wanted to talk about it with _Atsumu_.

"I'm gonna tell him."

"Don't ya fuckin' _dare_ , Tsumu." Anyone else might think it was an idle threat, but Osamu knew better. He could picture it perfectly: the Jackals would all be there. Sakusa would be intently watching Osamu shape his rice. Atsumu would walk up and say something horrible like "Hey, Omi-omi, didja know that Samu wants to bend ya over his nice clean counters and fuck yer brains out?" And then Sakusa would wrinkle his nose, and be so disgusted that he'd never come back.

Well, maybe it wouldn't be _that_ dramatic. Atsumu was a jerk but he wasn't usually a _complete_ asshole. Still, Osamu doubted that leaving the matter of his interest in Atsumu's hands would lead to anything good.

"Yeah? What're ya gonna do if I _do_ tell him?"

"I'd cut ya off from free onigiri, that's what."

"What? Ya _can't_ do that!"

"Sure I can. It's my restaurant."

"I'd just come in here wearin' one of yer hats and take stuff. Nobody'd even notice."

"Yer such a piece of shit, Tsumu. Don't rob yer own twin."

"It ain't robbin', _because_ yer my twin. It's _borrowin_ '."

"Anybody ever tell ya that borrowin' involves givin' somethin' _back_ eventually?"

Atsumu grinned, like the complete shithead that he was. "Nope. Never."

"Yer the _worst_."

He was definitely going to have to make his move before Atsumu could ruin it for him.

* * *

Luckily, he knew exactly where to find Sakusa on most days.

Osamu bumped the gymnasium door open with his hip, balancing three large containers of onigiri in his hands. "Hey! Ya guys got a minute?"

The Jackals never turned him away when he came bearing free food.

"You have good timing, Miya. We were just starting a break," Meian noted.

"Guess I'm just real lucky!" Osamu smiled, feigning innocence. It's not like he didn't know the team's general schedule, after all.

"Mya-sam!" Bokuto hollered, like Osamu was his long lost love. "Mya-sam's _food_!"

Inuaki was right behind him, wearing the expression of a man who had once seen Bokuto shove three onigiri into his mouth at once, and was haunted by it. (They all were.)

Atsumu, though, stared at him suspiciously. "To what do we owe this occasion, Samu?"

"Nothin' special. Just felt like doin' somethin' nice."

Eyes narrowed. "Sure ya did."

As more of the team crowded around him, Osamu scanned the locker room, looking for Sakusa.

There he was. Still near his locker, a comfortable distance away from everyone else, watching. He had a mask on, so Osamu couldn't tell if he looked curious, or bothered, or anything at all.

But he'd come here on a mission, and a little thing like that wasn't going to stop him. He disentangled himself from the group, and brought a small bag over to Sakusa.

"Hey. Made sure to keep yers separate, so they didn't get gobbled. Made 'em with gloves on and everythin', just like always."

"You didn't have to."

"Yeah, I know. Wanted to." He smiled his very best, most winning smile.

Sakusa ignored it and looked in the bag, brows wrinkling slightly.

"Ya gonna eat 'em?" Osamu asked. It wasn't a given: Sakusa hadn't _seen_ the onigiri being made. He'd have to trust that Osamu had told the truth. And while Osamu hoped that he would, he wasn't sure if he'd earned that kind of trust yet.

"Here?" Sakusa asked, disgust dripping from his voice. " _No_."

Osamu laughed. Of course Sakusa wasn't going to eat in the locker room. "No, I mean at _all_. At home, or wherever."

Sakusa raised his head, visibly confused. "Yes, of course."

Something inside Osamu _sang_ ; Sakusa _did_ trust him. Prickly, cautious Sakusa _trusted_ him. He'd come in half hoping he could make the other man blush, but now _he_ was the one getting red in the face. "Oh. Well, good. I'm glad."

"Oh wow! Sakusa-san, you got _special_ onigiri?" a loud voice asked from behind him.

Hinata.

How did that guy have the world's _worst_ timing? Osamu turned to try to fend him off, but before he could, Atsumu's arm shot out and collected the wing spiker, turning him back towards the food.

He made momentary eye contact with his brother.

_This is a favor. Don't blow it._

Osamu didn't intend to.

Sakusa had an eyebrow raised now. "That was... unexpected. Your brother usually encourages Hinata's chaos."

"Ah, well. Who really knows what's goin' through that guy's head, right?"

"Hm. I suppose."

Osamu's brain was still mush. Sakusa trusted his food. Sakusa trusted _him_. He liked that feeling, a _lot_.

Oh. He was more smitten than he'd realized, wasn't he?

Sakusa stared at him, and Osamu just smiled back, wide and dopey.

"Is there anything else?" Sakusa asked, probably wondering why they were just staring at each other.

Part of Osamu's brain kicked back in. "Oh! Yeah! I was thinkin', ya know there's a festival at the park around the corner next weekend? I'm gonna have a stall open, was wonderin' if ya wanted to stop by and hang out or somethin'. I'll have a ton more food for ya, too! All contact-free, promise."

It had _seemed_ like a good idea, up until the moment that it came out of his mouth and caused Sakusa to scowl.

"I don't like festivals. Too many people."

"Okay," Osamu answered quickly, trying to play it off. "No pressure. Ain't like I can't give the stuff to somebody else if ya don't show." It might break his heart if he had to give Sakusa's special food to someone else, but he _could_. Technically.

"Couldn't I just come by the shop and get it?"

"Nope!"

"Why?"

"Because. If ya come get it at the shop, it's just like every day, right?"

If Osamu had suddenly grown another head, he was pretty sure Sakusa would have looked less confused than he did at that moment. "Is there something wrong with that?"

"I was uh. Kinda plannin' somethin'," Osamu answered, horribly aware that he was blushing all the way to the tips of his ears. "It'll be worth it, trust me."

It took a long time for Sakusa to answer. "I'll think about it."

Well, at least it wasn't a _no_.

* * *

The festival was busier than Osamu had expected, which was great for business but not so great for his hopes. The more people there were, the higher the chance that Sakusa wouldn't show.

But Osamu still found himself staring out at the crowd between orders, gaze skipping from head to head, looking for dark, curly hair.

And then he appeared.

Sakusa Kiyoomi, hater of crowds, was _right there_ _. S_ urrounded by people, clad in dark clothes and, judging from the set of his eyebrows, a firmly set scowl. As Osamu watched, he narrowly avoided a collision with a child's melting sno-cone. He looked like he was having the absolute worst time of his life.

But _still_ , he was actually _there_.

Osamu's heart fluttered against his ribcage.

Sakusa deftly dodged another child and approached the stall. "This is _horrible_ ," he announced.

"Heh, sorry," Osamu smiled. "Didn't think it'd be this packed. Thanks for comin' anyway."

Sakusa nodded, staring up at the menu, down at his hands, over at the next stall. He looked everywhere except at Osamu. "You're welcome. I'd like to leave soon."

With any luck, Osamu would be changing that, so he didn't argue. "Sure," he answered. "If yer not havin' fun, what's the point, right? But ya gotta take yer grub first!" He reached under the counter and fished out a large, neatly packed bag. "It's mostly onigiri, on account of it bein' the specialty and all. And a few other things I wasn't sure if ya'd like but I made anyway. Ya don't have to eat it if ya hate it, won't hurt my feelin's any. And ya don't have to worry, I wore gloves the whole time. Everythin's guaranteed one-hundred-percent Miya-free."

A strange look crossed Sakusa's face; was it disappointment? Eagerness? Hunger? Between the dim light, and the mask on his face, Osamu couldn't begin to guess.

"Ya okay?"

"For a second, I forgot you were Miya, too," Sakusa admitted.

Osamu couldn't help but laugh. "With _this_ face? Amazin'."

"It's just. Your _brother_ is Miya. You're..." He paused, like he wasn't sure if he was allowed to say what Osamu was.

It dawned on Osamu that Sakusa usually refrained from addressing him by name at all. Was he embarrassed to call him Osamu? Adorable. "It's okay to call me 'Samu, y'know. I made ya food. That's my way of sayin' that we're friends."

The complicated look appeared again. "Right. Friends." Sakusa's eyes darted around before settling on the bag. "Can you leave the stall?"

While Osamu had planned on asking Sakusa if he wanted to walk around the festival, make a proper date out of the evening, he also figured that he'd have to do some convincing. But now here Sakusa was, asking him to leave. Osamu beamed. "Yeah, of course!"

"Good." Sakusa shifted on his feet. "Too many people."

There _was_ a line starting to form behind him.

"Oh, shit. Yeah. Um." Osamu turned to the other man in the booth. "Hey, Hiro. Ya okay if I duck out for a minute?"

Hiro nodded. "Yes. It's easier without ya here, Miya-san. I get less nervous without ya watchin' me."

Osamu laughed. "Are ya really that nervous when ya can say stuff like that?"

"Osamu-san. Please. Yer blocking the register."

"Fine, fine. Gettin' run out of my own place of business," he laughed.

He slipped out of the back of the stall, and found Sakusa waiting for him. "Did ya wanna go walk around?"

Sakusa shook his head firmly. "No. I wanted some space."

Osamu had pretty much expected that answer. At least Sakusa wasn't pushing to leave, which meant that they could spend some time together. "Yer in luck, then. Nobody much comes back here behind the booths."

"Good."

They walked a short distance away from the festival, the lights and noise fading to a pleasant background hum.

"Why did you ask me to come here?" Sakusa asked suddenly.

That was something Osamu hadn't expected. "Because we're friends?"

Sakusa's eyes narrowed. "You do this for all your friends?" he asked, gesturing to the bag.

If he gave that much food away to everyone, he'd be out of business. "Well. Sometimes."

That was the wrong answer. Sakusa's voice went dark. " _Miya_."

The use of his family name stung more than it should have. "Ya don't want it, ya don't have to--"

"I never said I didn't _want_ it," Sakusa answered, voice still thick with irritation. "I just want to know why, _exactly_ , you're doing this. You hardly _know_ me."

"Yeah, and maybe this is me tryin' to _change_ that, ya consider that?" It was out of his mouth without passing through his brain, but whatever. Sakusa said he wanted an honest answer, and there it was.

Sakusa just stood there, eyes slightly wide and brows slightly furrowed, like the world had shifted a little bit and he wasn't sure what to do about it. "Oh."

"It's true, I _don't_ know ya very well. But I like what I _do_ know. I like that ya say what's on yer mind. I like that ya clearly don't wanna be here but ya came anyway, for me, or my food, or both. I wanna get to know ya better. I wanna find more things to like about ya. And I figure no matter how comfortable ya get at the shop, ya ain't gonna open up much when any one of yer teammates might walk up in the middle of it. Right?"

"That's true."

"So I figured I'd ask ya out. We're at a festival, figured it'd be a cute first date spot. Threw in some free food to sweeten the deal."

"But I don't _like_ festivals."

Osamu laughed. Sakusa must think he was stupid not to have gotten that through his head yet. "Yeah, yeah, I get it. No festival. Guess we could always just sit right here in the dark and have a real weird first date. If ya wanna."

"Okay."

Osamu's heart skipped a beat. "Yeah?"

Sakusa looked away. "I wouldn't have come here if I didn't. Although your invitation could have been clearer. I wasn't sure if it was supposed to be a date at all. I was worried that I'd misunderstood."

"Yeah, sorry about that. Kinda chickened out at the last second."

"Why?" Sakusa asked, as he folded himself up on a patch of grass. He sat with his knees to his chest, curled in on himself.

Osamu stretched out, savoring the feeling of being off his feet. Maybe this _was_ a better idea than walking around. "If I told ya, ya'd probably think I'm weird."

"You're a Miya. I already think you're weird," Sakusa answered.

"Jeez. Cold as ice, Kiyoomi."

Sakusa tilted his head slightly. "Just _tell_ me."

"Okay, but yer not allowed to tell me how weird I am."

" _Osamu_."

A little thrill ran through Osamu as Sakusa said his name. He really did have one hell of a crush, didn't he? "Fine, fine. See, I was already interested in ya. And then I brought ya that food, and I didn't even really think about it until ya looked at it that ya might not want it. Because ya didn't see it bein' made, and all. But then ya said ya'd eat it, like, why did I even have to ask? And that... well, it felt like everythin' kinda came together for me. Realized how much I want to try to be that person for ya. Somebody ya can trust with anythin'. And that kinda fried my brain a little bit, and I kinda forgot to mention this was a date." _God_ that sounded stupid. Stupid and entirely _too much_ for a first date.

"You're right. That _is_ weird," Sakusa answered, softly.

" _Hey_! Ya said ya wouldn't--"

"I didn't say that. _You_ said that I wasn't allowed. I never agreed."

"I'm dyin'. Yer killin' me. I'm gonna keel over right here. I can see the headlines. Man Tragically Dies On Strange First Date."

"Please don't. I don't want to be a murder suspect."

"Ya wouldn't be a suspect, ya'd be the culprit!"

Sakusa hummed. "Anyway, it's... a cute sort of weird. I don't mind."

Wait.

Did Sakusa just say he was _cute_?

It was too dark to see if Sakusa was blushing, but Osamu hoped he was. He knew that his own face was definitely getting warmer.

"It _is_?"

"I wanted to know if you hesitated because you had second thoughts."

"No, no way. I'm... I'm real glad ya actually showed up."

Sakusa nodded and ran a hand over the bag beside him. "And I _do_ trust your food. You're careful. I don't... I don't trust very many people like that."

Osamu's heart jumped to his throat. It was one thing to infer, but another thing to hear Sakusa say it. He knew what it meant, knew that it wasn't as simple a thing as it sounded. For Sakusa, that was a big kind of trust. A trust that might be a little _too much_ for a first date.

"That's weird, Kiyoomi," Osamu said softly. He hoped that Sakusa could see his smile. "It's a cute sort of weird."

Sakusa snorted at that. "I'm not _cute_. I'm difficult." There was no trace of self-pity: it was a truth, offered plainly.

"Yer _both_ ," Osamu answered. "Doesn't bother me. I ain't a stranger to difficult."

"Ew," Sakusa's nose wrinkled up. "Not like _Miya_."

"Nah, not at all. Yer yer own special brand. I'm no angel, either, y'know. I'm sure Tsumu's made sure _everybody_ knows that."

That earned him a quiet laugh. "Believe it or not, he usually compliments you. Only when he's certain it won't get back to you, though."

Osamu's eyebrows raised. "Well, ain't _that_ a surprise. But seems he made a grave miscalculation. It _did_ get back to me."

"How terrible," Sakusa answered, in the very flat tone that Osamu had learned meant he was being sarcastic.

"See, that's another thing I like about ya. Ya like pissin' Tsumu off almost as much as I do."

"Hm. It's more that I feel he _deserves_ it."

"Me _too_! We've got so much in common, Kiyoomi. Y'know, I think we might be soulmates?"

Sakusa studied him intently at that, trying to determine if he was being mocked. But Osamu just smiled goofily back at him. Maybe it was a dumb joke, but he still sort of hoped that Sakusa agreed with him, even a little.

Instead, Sakusa tilted his head to the side and asked, "What's your favorite brand of hand sanitizer?"

"Oh, that's easy. I use a _ton_ of Tepika. I swear by that stuff," Osamu answered. If Sakusa was trying to catch him off guard, he'd have to try harder than that.

Sakusa sighed and shook his head. "What a shame," he announced, very seriously. "Hand Lab is clearly the superior product. It seems we're not soulmates after all."

Oh. Even _better_. He was playing along.

"Well, guess we better call this whole thing off, then," Osamu said. "Nice knowin' ya, Kiyoomi."

Sakusa nodded but made no move to stand up. "Yes. Have a nice life, Osamu," he said, his voice as flat as if he was pointing out a stain on someone's floor.

"So, what's yer favorite onigiri fillin'?"

"What kind of question is that? I thought this was supposed to be a _date_."

"You just asked me what type'a hand sanitizer I liked!" Osamu sputtered, caught off guard. "That's _worse_!"

Sakusa hummed in response, eyes practically sparkling. He was clearly enjoying himself. God, he was _amazing_. "It was a serious question."

"And so's this! I'm askin' so that I can make it for ya and sweep ya off yer feet!"

Sakusa let out a soft huff. "Fine. It's umeboshi."

"Well, there's some of that in yer bag already. What _else_ ya like?"

"I don't know. Surprise me."

"Ya don't seem the type to like surprises."

Sakusa shrugged. " _This_ was a surprise. It's not so bad."

"Yeah. It's kinda fun. Weird though."

"Yes. A very strange first date."

"We can do somethin' proper next time," Osamu offered. "I mean, if ya want a next time."

"No crowds."

"No crowds, promise."

"Good."

"It's a little bit of a shame, though, y'know?" Osamu sighed. "I had all sortsa plans. I was gonna be like, the best bodyguard ever, keepin' people off ya, makin' space for ya to walk. And I was gonna win ya some huge, awful stuffed animal, and make ya take it home. And we were gonna do goldfish scoopin' and eat somethin' on a stick, and--"

Sakusa frowned. "So you _didn't_ like it."

"Huh? No, Kiyoomi, I didn't say that. I just meant... Well, this is embarassin', but the truth is, I was hopin' to impress ya somehow. Ain't much impressive about sittin' in the grass, talkin'."

To his surprise, Sakusa scooted a little bit closer. "Osamu."

"Yeah?"

"Did you consider that if I wasn't _already_ impressed _,_ I wouldn't even have come here?"

Osamu felt like Sakusa's eyes were boring right through him. "Um. No, I, um. I hadn't."

"You should." He got closer, close enough that his feet were almost touching Osamu's leg.

By pure luck, a large burst of fireworks drowned out Osamu's answering squeak. "Okay, I'll, I'll do that," he mumbled, suddenly unable to flirt or joke or even think.

"Oh, the fireworks," Sakusa noted, sounding disinterested. "The festival's ending."

He looked up, watching quietly.

"They're pretty, huh?" Osamu asked, trying to fill the silence.

"Hm?"

"I said, the fireworks are pretty."

"I'm sorry, I can't hear you. Too loud."

The fireworks weren't _that_ loud. Osamu could hear Sakusa just fine. Some stubbornness inside him made him lean in, ready to repeat himself again.

And just as he did, Sakusa turned back towards him, brushing his face against Osamu's cheek. Almost like he was giving him a quick kiss through his mask.

Startled, Osamu jumped back. "Sorry! I--"

Sakusa hooked a finger in his mask and pulled it down. He was smirking, and _god_ did it do things to Osamu's heart.

"Wait. Did ya just do that on _purpose_?"

"Yes."

"In _public_?"

Sakusa shrugged, the smirk still firmly in place. "No one's around. And now you've learned something else about me."

"Yeah I did," Osamu exhaled. "Yer a _shit_ , Kiyoomi. And damn, if I don't like that, too. I like that a _lot_."

Sakusa pulled his mask back up, eyes bright. "You were right, by the way."

"Huh? About what?"

"It turns out that I _do_ like someone taking care of me."

The only thing that kept Osamu from spontaneously combusting was the realization that if he _did_ , he wouldn't be able to talk to Sakusa any more. "Kiyoomi, ya really are gonna kill me."

"Hm. Then I suppose I shouldn't say anything else."

Osamu's brain had shut down, and his survival instincts were failing him. "No, ya should. Keep goin'."

"I was just going to say," Sakusa said casually, like it was no big deal at all, "That I'll try to take care of you, too."

"Kiyoomi."

"Hm?"

"How does it feel to be a stone cold murderer?"

Sakusa hummed. "I think that was assisted suicide, Osamu. You asked me to do it."

"Cool as a cucumber. Amazin'. Pretty sure my heart's gonna give out, and yer totally fine. How'd ya get so damn good at flirtin', anyway?"

"Am I?"

"Yeah. Ya are."

"You should really switch to Hand Lab, you know."

A loud laugh burst from Osamu's belly, strong enough to make him almost fall back onto the grass. " _What_?"

"I'm serious," Sakusa insisted, like he hadn't just dramatically changed the subject. "It's far better than Tepika."

"Is this yer way of sayin' ya won't hold my hand until I change hand sanitizers?"

Sakusa raised an eyebrow at him. "No. I'm just worried about your health if I do. You seem to be very fragile."

Osamu rolled his eyes. "How considerate."

"I do my best. The fireworks have stopped."

"So they have."

"That means the festival's over for the night, doesn't it?"

"Yeah, it does," Osamu sighed. "I should get back to the stall before Hiro thinks I really _did_ die."

Sakusa unfolded himself and offered a hand to help Osamu up. "I had fun."

Osamu took it, a little surprised at how warm it was. For some reason, he'd expected Sakusa to run cold. "Me too. Even if ya are a _pill_."

"A pill," Sakusa repeated, completely deadpan. "Such strong language. I'm hurt. Dying." Once Osamu was up, Sakusa adjusted his fingers, but didn't let go.

"If we're both dyin'," Osamu announced, "Maybe we should kiss right now so we don't have, y'know, any regrets or anythin' when we go."

Sakusa laughed, brighter than Osamu had heard before. "Hm. But then what would we do on the second date?"

Absolutely nothing that came to Osamu's mind was something he felt like he could say in a public park. "Uh..."

Squeezing his hand, Sakusa leaned in and gave him another quick through-the-mask peck. "You've been out here working all day. Next time, when you can brush your teeth first."

Oh, right.

This was still Sakusa.

That was fine. Osamu hadn't minded jumping through a few hoops for Sakusa before, and he sure wasn't going to start now.


End file.
